Found Again
by Sheptastic
Summary: Harm attends a BBQ at the Chegwidden home, where he finds something he'd thought lost to him forever - plus a few more surprises. Not Mac friendly. Not entirely canon. Certain events will be changed that *I* took issue with during the series. JAG and it's characters belong to Bellisario/CBS productions, with the exception of original characters created by myself.
1. Chapter 1

He found her standing at the top of the stairs, staring out the small window above at the moon. She had been pensive and decidedly quiet all afternoon. She wasn't apprehensive about the barbeque, or meeting the people he worked with and had allowed into his inner-circle. That kind of stuff had never bothered her, even after the accident. He watched her for a few moments, then startled when she spoke without turning around.

"You always know, don't you?"

He favored her with a warm smile as he took the stairs two-at-a-time until he reached her. "I don't know about that, but I try to keep attuned. You figure it out yet?"

She let out a deep sigh and turned to look up at him. "No. I wish I could explain it… I just… it feels… like when you know a storm is moving in and you have to brace for the worst… I dunno. Feels like something big is coming, but I have no idea what that might be."

At that precise moment, the doorbell rang, prompting both of them to smile at the timing.

"Speak of the devil," he quipped before planting a gentle kiss on her forehead and going back down the stairs. "Come on out when you're ready," he called back before disappearing down the hallway leading toward the front door.

She nodded to herself and glanced back up at the moon. Yes, something was coming. Bad? Good? She had no idea. But something was about to change in a big way, and it wasn't just their move to Virginia. That had been a long time coming. And once she'd made the decision, she wondered just why it had taken her so long to agree. She loved it here.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of laughter wafting up from the patio below. She had never met his subordinates before, which was rather odd, considering their relationship and history. The timing, it seemed, had always been off. She'd been to his office maybe a handful of times, but usually after hours, when most everyone had already left for the day. He'd spoken quite fondly of a few of them, and she was eager to meet anyone who had managed to breach his walls to become more than just subordinates.

Smoothing her dress, she turned and made her way downstairs, through the hall and into the kitchen. Grabbing a beer from the cooler, she headed for the patio door, only to stop short as a tall, very tall, dark-haired man opened the door and stepped inside. He opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly froze in place, his mouth and eyes going wide in shock. She felt an inexplicable sense of recognition as she stared up at his face, but couldn't figure out why. As far as she knew, she had never met this handsome stranger before. Then again, maybe she had. Or perhaps it was just wishful thinking on her part? He was _**very**_ handsome, after all.

"My apologies," she said, finally finding her voice. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Startle…?" he managed to choke out.

"My name is…"

"Bronwyn?!" he gasped, cutting her off.

Obviously all of their guests had been told the name of the woman they were here to meet this evening, but the way he'd said her name came as more of a stunned surprise than an introduction.

"Yes, I'm Bronwyn O'Malley, and you are…?" she prodded, feeling somewhat disjointed by his continued stare.

"Bron… you can't be… real…" he shook his head, as if to clear his vision.

"I'm pretty sure that I am," she countered, a nervous smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. "Last time I checked anyway."

"No," he shook his head again. "You… five years ago… you were…"

Realization dawned on her. "In a car accident, yes."

"Killed," he corrected her. "In a car accident…" he moved closer, studying her face in wonder and even dismay.

"Killed?!" she shuddered involuntarily. "It was bad, but not _**that**_ bad." She couldn't recall ever meeting him before, but there was something incredibly familiar about him. His eyes, the shape of his mouth – very familiar.

A single tear slid down his face and he tentatively reached out, intending to touch her face. Ordinarily she wouldn't allow it, given that they were complete strangers, but something made her stand in place and let him lightly brush his forefinger down the side of her cheek.

***zing***

That one gentle touch sent a wave of electricity coursing through her body. A second tear slid down his face as he stared at her in horror and disbelief.

The door opened again and the man stopped short at the sight of them, standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring at each other and looking quite shell-shocked.

"I see you two have already met," he began. "Rabb, if you're about to get any ideas…" he stopped short and suddenly froze as well.

How had he not seen it all these years. Maybe it had come to him because he'd just been sharing recent photographs with the others, but he could see it now – clear as day – what had been eluding him before. The burning, unanswered question that had been hanging over their heads for the last five years. It was him. All along, the man he'd sought had been right in front of him all this time, and he hadn't seen it.

Sensing that something monumental was about to come, Bronwyn turned and looked at the man who had taken on the role of her father following the death of her parents shortly after her fourteenth birthday. AJ Chegwidden had been on the same SEAL team with her father, and the two men had been the closest of friends long before she'd been born. He was her Godfather, her legal guardian until she'd reached her majority, and had continued to be an active father-figure to this day.

"Pop?" she croaked hoarsely.

"Pop?" Rabb repeated, staring at Chegwidden in confusion until all the pieces fell into place. "Pop… _**this**_ is your Pop? The man who took you in as a kid and raised you after your parents died?!" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"I… how did you…" she trailed off and shook her head.

It was becoming more obvious by the moment that the two of them did indeed know one another from before. From before the blank hole in her life – the memory loss that had been a result of the car accident. She'd lost a year's worth of memories, thanks to the traumatic brain injury she'd suffered. She must have known him during that time. She must have…

"Oh my God!" she gasped, clamping her hand over her mouth as she stared up at him in utter shock. A glance at Chegwidden confirmed that he had reached the same conclusion. The hair, the eyes, the mouth – they were all the same.

"She doesn't remember you, Harm," Chegwidden stepped in.

"She looks like she does now," Rabb countered, still trying to recover from his own shock.

"No, she doesn't. What you're seeing is a reaction to the realization of something I should have seen years ago, but didn't."

Rabb tore his eyes away from Bronwyn long enough to glance at his Commanding Officer in curiosity. "Which is?"

Chegwidden moved to stand before Bronwyn and place his hands on her shoulders. "We need to go someplace more private to discuss this. Bron, you'll take him to my study?"

"Yes sir," she nodded, resisting the urge to run from the room.

"I'll be along in a moment," he assured her; his intention being to inform his guests that they should continue the party without them for a while.

Bronwyn and Rabb reached Chegwidden's study, an awkward silence between them for a few moments.

"Is he right? You really don't remember me?" Rabb finally asked.

"I don't," she nodded. "I.. the car accident I was in five years ago… I suffered a pretty traumatic brain injury and for a while, lost most of my memory. It came back, little by little, over the course of my recovery but I was never able to regain the year before the accident. It's gone. They tried everything, but it's gone. They said I was lucky to have regained anything, let alone as _**much **_as I did."

"Oh my God," he murmured, brows furrowed in concern. "Bron, I'm so… so sorry…"

"So you knew about the car accident… but you never checked… uh… after…?" she asked, a million questions were buzzing around in her head – not the least of which was 'How could he not know?'

After all, it was pretty obvious that they had been at least a _**bit**_ more than mere friends.

"I did!" he squawked. "I did check. I came to see you but…"

"But what, Harm?"

They looked over to see Chegwidden standing in the doorway, a confused-simmering-on-angry expression on his face.

"They told me you had died," he informed them. "Even presented me with a copy of the death certificate…"

Bronwyn shuddered involuntarily and Chegwidden gaped at him incredulously. "What? Who?! Why would they do that?!"

"I swear, sir… I made it as far as the waiting room at the base hospital – about five days after the accident, because I'd just heard about it. Your C.O., I forget his name… he intercepted me, dragged me outside and told me that you'd died as a result of your injuries the day after the accident. I… I couldn't believe it, so he handed me a copy of the death certificate – he'd come to the hospital to get it for your service record or something. I wanted to know where you'd been buried, but he informed me that you'd been cremated, and your ashes spread in the harbor…" he stopped then, realizing just how hard that had to be for her to hear.

"Why in the hell would he do that?!" Chegwidden wondered aloud.

Louden knew that she had survived. That she'd been transferred to a hospital on the mainland. Why on earth would he do something like that?

Bronwyn had gone pale, her skin crawling at everything they'd been told. Why would her C.O. tell the man she… had been involved with… that she had died – and in such elaborate, morbid detail? He knew her. He knew of her circumstances – all of them – and had been the one to handle the paperwork as a result of her changed status. What could possibly make him tell Rabb everything he had?

"We've been searching for you for years, looking for answers, and you were right here under my nose the whole time," Chegwidden grumbled.

"I'm sorry sir?" Rabb stared at him quizzically. "If she didn't remember anything about me, then why would you be looking for me?"

"This isn't going to be easy to hear, Harm, so you'd better sit down – trust me," Chegwidden warned.

Rabb obediently took a seat, alternating a confused stare between Chegwidden and Bronwyn. Grateful for the excuse to sit down, as he was already on very shaky legs, he nodded for one of them to continue.

"Did you see any of the pictures I was passing around outside and bragging about?" he asked.

Rabb shook his head negatively. "No sir, not yet. I believe you mentioned… grandchildren…?" his eyes suddenly grew wide and realization slammed into him like a freight train.

"Couldn't be more proud," Chegwidden smiled warmly at Bronwyn. "Bottom line is this, Harm: with all that Bronwyn lost as a result of that accident, it's what she didn't lose that matters most."

"And that would be…?" Rabb prodded, somehow sensing what was about to come.

"I don't know if I knew at the time, but… I was pregnant, fairly newly pregnant," she told him, doing her best to just rip the bandaid off and get it over with.

"Miraculously, she didn't suffer a miscarriage through all of that," Chegwidden added, reaching for a framed photograph on his desk and turning to hand it over. "Congratulations, Harm… it's a boy…"

Rabb felt his entire world tilt on its axis as he focused on the young, smiling boy in the photograph. A boy who looked so much like him, it was uncanny. And undeniable. The boy had his hair, his eyes, his mouth, even his ears.

Chegwidden cleared his throat and reached for another framed photograph. "And… a girl…" he announced, handing the photograph to Rabb, who looked like he'd just been hit by a truck.

"I… twins…?" he gasped, staring at the two photographs intently.

There was no denying the girl was also his. Though her features were more feminine and soft, it was clear that she, too, had his eyes, hair and mouth, but her mother's ears.

"We had no idea who the father was – all these years. Bronwyn hadn't shared the news with anyone at her duty station, her friends, or me. I knew she'd been seeing someone, but she hadn't deigned to tell me yet – likely out of fear of what I'd put the man through. No one came looking for her after the accident, so we had no way of knowing who you were or where you'd gone. It was a complete mystery. I knew something was off, because I know Bronwyn. She's not the type to have a one-nighter with a random stranger, so I couldn't understand why any man she trusted enough to become intimate with wouldn't come looking for her. We found no pictures or correspondence of you or from you. It was like you didn't exist – except for the fact that someone had definitely impregnated my little girl."

"There were pictures, sir," Rabb informed him. "Plenty of them… of me, of us together. An album full, and ones on the wall of her apartment…"

Chegwidden shook his head. This was becoming even more of a mystery with each passing moment. "There weren't any at her place when I went there to get a few things for her before she was transferred to the mainland for care. Not a single one, and it didn't appear that anything was missing – no holes in the wall, no obvious missing photographs in bare spaces on the walls…"

"Just when we thought things couldn't get any more confusing," Brownyn murmured.

"It's clear as day to me right now, I don't know why I never saw it before. But when I walked in on you two, together in the kitchen, it was crystal clear that you were the father of those two kids."

"I… I'm a father," Rabb murmured incredulously, a stunned yet delighted smile forming on his face.

"Apparently so," Bronwyn nodded absently.


	2. Chapter 2

Chegwidden had left them alone to talk, while he went to check on his guests and inform them that Rabb and Bronwyn would not be joining the party tonight.

"They're beautiful," Rabb murmured, staring at the two little faces in awe.

"If you do say so yourself?" Bronwyn teased.

"Hmmm?" Rabb glanced up at her, confused.

"Well, they do look just like you," she pointed out.

He grinned broadly, beaming with a pride he had never felt before. "I can't believe this…"

"I'm finding it all more than a little surreal myself… again," she admitted.

He turned and looked her in the eye, his expression sobering instantly. "I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that alone, Bron. I'm so sorry. If I had known…" he trailed off sadly.

"I believe you," she nodded. "And I wasn't completely alone – I had the Admiral."

"I'd give anything… anything, to have been there with you," he swore to her.

"We can't change the past," she shrugged. "Much as we'd like to, we can't. But there is something you can do for me now."

"Name it," he told her.

"Fill in the blanks for me?" she asked. "Tell me about us – what we were, who we were to each other. I mean, I may not remember that year of my life, but I do know myself and the Admiral's right… I'm not the type of person who engages in casual sex, so we must have… meant something to each other."

He smiled as the memories flashed through his mind. Hell yeah, they had meant something to each other.

"We were in love," he said simply. "Very much so."

"Good to know," she smiled, more than a little relieved.

"Three days before the accident, we had just wrapped up a four-day leave – I'd taken you to San Diego to meet my mother and step-father. Where I'd proposed to you, and given you my great-grandmother's ring. We parted ways at the San Diego airport, because I had to get back to JAG and you had to return to Pearl and put in for transfer," he explained. "Not five minutes after I got home, I received orders to investigate a case in Italy, so I was out of the Country for a few days after the accident. I heard about it when I got home and tried to reach you. I couldn't get through to anyone, but I was already arranging for a flight to Hawaii, so I just… I got there as fast as I could and that… that's when I bumped into your C.O. – who did seem to know exactly who I was and why I was there. He knew about us, Bron, so why didn't he tell you or the Admiral? And why would he tell me you were dead?"

She stared up at him, completely at a loss to explain any of that. She hadn't seen that man for years – since after the accident, when he'd come to visit her in the hospital in D.C. He'd never said anything about Rabb and had denied knowing anything about anyone she might be personally involved with. She couldn't think of one possible explanation for what he'd done. None of it made any sense. But, as much as she would like to solve that mystery, there were still many unanswered questions she had about the two of them.

"I want to get to all of that, but I want to know about us right now…" she told him.

He had worked for years to be able to lock all of that away, just so he could function. Losing her had been devastating for him. He had never loved anyone the way he'd loved her. Wholly. Mind, body and soul, she had been the one woman he'd wanted to spend his life and build a family with. Now it was all coming back to him – the memories, the feelings and the pain over losing her.

"Where do you want me to start?" he asked, pushing the pain down to focus on giving her what _**she**_ needed.

"Where we met seems a good place to start," she replied.

His eyes lit up and his smile grew wider. She felt a *zing* again at that devastating smile and waited for him to begin.

"We met in Florida – at Jacksonville NAS - almost exactly six years ago," he began. I was down there conducting an investigation into some alleged assaults and you were there for weapons quals. Things had broken loose in my investigation and we managed to flush out the perpetrator I was looking for, but he got wind that we were on to him and he tried to run. He was sprinting past the gun range just as you exited the building. To this day, I have never seen anyone read and react so quickly to a dangerous situation like this," he grinned at her.

"What did I do?" she wondered.

"You joined in the chase!" he chuckled, shaking his head. "Without knowing who he was, or why we were chasing him, you jumped right in with both feet. You managed to catch up with him, tackle him and pin him to the ground by twisting his arm behind his back and putting a boot to the back of his neck until we caught up."

"Well, well" she shrugged. It was definitely something she would do under those circumstances, but it was like hearing about someone else's exploits, since she couldn't remember it.

"Well, well, indeed," he agreed. "And well-done, I might add. It was very impressive. So much so that I didn't really notice how incredibly beautiful you are until we were sitting in the brig office going over the reports…"

*zing*

She could feel her face flush, but kept her gaze steady on him.

"I couldn't take my eyes off of you the whole time and I kept thinking of ways to prolong the interview, just so I could listen to the sound of your voice and stare at your face," he admitted openly.

*zing*

No wonder she had fallen for him all those years ago.

"When I couldn't stall any longer, I finally got up the courage to ask you out for a drink, which ended up being dinner and drinks instead," he smiled.

"Lucky me," she blushed.

"I was the lucky one," he corrected her. "I couldn't believe you even agreed to go out with me, much less agree to see me again after that."

"In Florida?" she asked, somewhat confused because she knew that Florida had never been among her official base postings.

"Nah, you were stationed at Pax River for most of the time we knew each other," he replied. "You weren't sent to Pearl until about two months before the accident. By that time, we were already pretty damn serious and the distance further reinforced the bond we shared, instead of weakening it."

She took all of this in, studying him intently as he spoke. "Okay… and I never took you home to Daddy in all that time?"

She had been assuming it was because of the working relationship the two men had, as well as her likely concern over how Chegwidden would feel and the heavy burden and uncomfortable position it would put him in. Also there was the fact that Chegwidden was usually happier when he didn't have to think about her being with any man, much less one under his command.

"Never once," he replied. "In fact, you never even told me his name. I mean, you told me about your folks, and how your father's best friend had taken you in after their deaths. How he'd been such a great father to you and that he was a Navy Admiral. You said you'd introduce us when the time was right and you didn't have to worry about either of us or the effect it would have on my career. That should have been a red flag to me right there, that it was someone close to me…" he mused thoughtfully. "It must have been incredibly difficult dealing with that all on your own."

"And the time wasn't ever right during that entire year?" she asked, wondering how she'd managed to pull that off.

"The _**timing**_ never seemed to be right," he corrected her. "There were a couple of times you tried to make it happen, but something always got in the way. I had to leave town – or the Country – and you were busy fulfilling your own duties, or he was… So a meeting never happened, although we were going to tell him together, when you agreed to marry me, but…" he trailed off sadly.

"The accident," she nodded.

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Bron. _**Nothing.**_ The accident wasn't your fault, you didn't _**choose**_ what happened to you," he assured her. "If anything, I should have dug deeper, after your C.O. told me you had died. I should have pushed for more information instead of accepting his word."

"That wasn't _**your**_ fault," she countered. "The man handed you a freakin death certificate, after all."

"We're going to have to address that, sooner rather than later, but… I'd really like to know… about my kids. I still can't believe I have two kids. And I can't believe you didn't suffer a miscarriage after the accident."

She smiled at the thought of twins. Yes, she had been incredibly lucky. They were the light of her life, and her reason for living. She hadn't needed to know their father, or anything about him, to fully embrace the amazing gift that they were.

"What would you like to know?" she smiled up at him.


	3. Chapter 3

"Are you sure they're really yours?"

Rabb's jaw dropped open and he stared at MacKenzie in shock. "Mac… you've seen the pictures. Is there really any doubt?"

"You tell me, Harm," she retorted. "I don't know this woman, and neither do you – anymore. You haven't seen her in over five years!"

"Seriously?!" he gaped at her. "Do you think the Admiral's lying too?!"

"He's not immune to manipulation," she shrugged.

"She's not like that, Mac – never has been. She just doesn't have it in her," Rabb replied. "And there's no denying the physical resemblance between myself and the twins. I have no reason to doubt her word – or the Admiral's – and even if I did, the timing is right, from conception to birth."

"The timing is only right if she was completely faithful to you when they were conceived," she countered.

"Is there some particular reason you don't want these kids to be mine?" he arched an eyebrow at her, completely at a loss regarding her attitude.

"No," she squeaked. "Of course not. I know you've always wanted children of your own, I'm just not as trusting as you, particularly in a situation like this. Five years is a long time and, like I said, she could have changed in ways you don't know about. She can't be the same woman, if she's really gone through all she says she has."

"Except that it's not just her saying it, it's the Admiral as well. Everything happened that they _**said**_ happened and her former C.O. _**did**_ tell me that she had been killed – for whatever reason, which I _**will **_get to the bottom of…"

"Have you considered the possibility that she asked him to tell you that she died?" she asked.

"What?! No! Why would I? Why would she?!"

"Well, it would be one way to back out of a marriage she was unsure about…" she mused.

"You have no idea what you're talking about. I have no idea why you're even suggesting these things. You don't know her, you clearly don't know the Admiral, so we're done with this – end of discussion," he growled.

"It's called being a friend," she huffed. "I'm looking out for you, in case she's not as honest as you think she is. You're not exactly impartial here."

"Concern is always welcome, but personal attacks – questioning her integrity and that of the Admiral, not to mention my own ability to recognize the truth when I'm staring it in the face, is not appreciated. So thanks, but I'm done discussing this with you," he said firmly.

She stormed out of his office after that, with a final warning for him to be careful and not to get too attached to children that may not be his. It took him a few moments to get his emotions under control. After a few deep breaths, he turned his eyes to the two small framed photographs that now sat proudly on his desk – a gift from Chegwidden. The faces of his two beautiful children smiled up at him, soothing his nerves and filling him with a joy he had never known before. No, there was no denying that they were his progeny. None whatsoever. And tonight he would finally get to meet them.

They had been at a sitter's home last night, so he hadn't been able to meet them then. But Chegwidden had graciously handed over years worth of videos of the children, from as far back as infancy, so he could get some sense of who they were and what their personalities were like, and he'd stayed up all night watching those videos, unable to tear himself away, even for sleep. Chegwidden had also left him with a stern warning never to do anything to hurt the children or their mother – lest there be hell to pay. Rabb had been earnest in his promise to protect them all and to love his children with his whole being.

For her part, Bronwyn had taken a day's leave in order to prepare her children to meet their father for the very first time. They were too young to fully understand what was going on, but they had been increasingly asking questions about why they didn't have a father, when so many other kids did, for the past year or so. All she could do was to explain as best she could, that she'd gotten hurt a while back and because of that, she couldn't remember their father and didn't know where he was. They took this to mean that he was somehow lost and, since that was as close to the truth as they could comprehend, she and the Admiral had just gone with that.

They had been pleased and excited to learn that their mother had found their father and that they would finally get to see him. They asked questions about his name, what he looked like and where he worked; expressing surprise at the revelation that their father worked for their Grandpa AJ. They seemed to enjoy the fact that they looked like him when she showed them a photo she'd downloaded from a news article she'd found about him on the internet. They wondered if he would like them very much and she'd reassured them that their father already loved them and couldn't wait to spend time with them. It got a little awkward when they asked if he would live with them now, and she'd had to dance around that a bit before changing the subject.

They had decided to make this meeting as casual and stress-free as possible by having Rabb come to dinner at Chegwidden's house. The twins had their own rooms here, as did she, but it was as close to a neutral-yet-familiar place as they could find. The twins were as comfortable at Grandpa's house as they were in their own – probably moreso, since they'd spent more time here than at the new house they'd just moved into.

Chegwidden had remained steadfastly supportive, and had taken a step back to allow Rabb and Bronwyn to figure things out on their own, regarding the children. He offered his opinion _when asked_, and worked hard to keep his mouth shut otherwise. He was naturally concerned, but he knew how strong and sensible Bronwyn was. He knew that, despite the enormity of the situation, it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. He would be there for dinner with all of them, a quiet source of strength and calm, to help ease any anxiety the twins (or Bronwyn) might have.

The back door opened and Chegwidden walked in the door. He placed his briefcase on the floor, next to the stairs, and planted a quick kiss on her forehead.

"Hey sweetheart, how're you feeling?" he asked.

"Fine. Tired. A little nauseous. Fine," she replied in rapid succession.

"Okay then," he smiled, fighting the urge to chuckle.

"It's all going to be fine, right?" she asked, looking up at him through pleading eyes.

"Yes, sweetheart, it _**is**_ all going to be fine," he assured her, giving her an affectionate squeeze for good measure. "Kids love Rabb, and yours will be no different – not that it doesn't help that he's actually their father… And yes, I'm still trying to wrap my head around that too."

She smiled awkwardly up at him and unconsciously bit down on her lower lip. "I've really put you in a pickle, haven't I?"

"None of that, now. Yes, the situation is less than ideal, but far from unbearable," he told her.

"Why couldn't I have just told you about him back then?" she chided herself, and not for the first time.

"Hindsight and all," he shrugged. "It wouldn't have preserved your memory, Bronwyn. Or the delicate balance we have to walk at the office. It would have given the kids their father earlier, yes, but there's nothing to be gained by what-iffing yourself now. We all play the cards we're dealt and you're doing a beautiful job of dealing with this new hand."

"Thank you sir," she smiled tremulously at him.

"I love you, and I'm proud of you, Bronwyn. Always have been and I don't expect that will ever change."

That meant everything to her. Biology aside, he had become a father to her in every way that mattered. She loved him and respected him as much as her biological parents, and was eternally grateful that he had never hesitated to take her in after their untimely deaths. He was a wonderful father, and a superb grandfather to her children and they all adored him beyond all due madness.

The doorbell rang, setting off excited squeals from the twins, who were playing in the next room. Daddy had finally arrived.


	4. Chapter 4

Bronwyn opened the front door and the children immediately fell silent and moved to the far side of the room. She smiled warmly up at Rabb, who returned her gaze for a moment, until his eyes fell on the twins.

"Come in," she bade him.

His mouth was dry, his hands were shaking, and he felt on the verge of tears. They were beautiful. Everything he had ever dreamed of was right here in front of him now. He stood rooted in place, until Bronwyn took him by the elbow and began to propel him forward toward where the children stood gaping up at him, mouths ajar and eyes silently assessing him. In spite of his nerves, he broke into a wide, dazzling smile as he looked down into the two young faces staring up at him.

His daughter frantically motioned to her mother and quietly whispered into her ear. "Mommy, he has a VERY nice smile."

Bronwyn nodded, not daring to hazard a glance back at Rabb. "Yes, he does… Just like you and your brother."

Without further prompting, Rabb dropped down to one knee, to be more on their level and less intimidating.

"Harmon, this is Trevor," she began. "And this is Logan…" she paused for a beat. "Kids, this is your father."

Trevor stepped forward first, while Logan hung back a little, letting her brother take the lead. He stuck out his hand for a handshake then changed his mind and opted for a precise and perfect salute instead. (His grandpa AJ had taught him well!) Rabb returned his salute and smiled warmly at his son, who turned slightly and beckoned to his twin. He took Logan's hand in his and urged her forward. After studying her father for a few seconds more, she reached up and patted Rabb's face, looking him right in the eye.

"I like you," she announced before throwing her little arms around his neck and hugging him fiercely.

Rabb melted on the spot, forcing down the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. Bronwyn fought back tears and plastered a reassuring smile on her face.

"I'm… so glad to hear that," Rabb murmured hoarsely, around the lump in his throat. "Because I… I love you… _**both of you**_… very, very much." He drew Trevor into their embrace and held them close as a tear slid down his cheek.

The ice had been broken and now all bets were off. The children tugged him this way and that, eager to show him possessions they had, share four year-old perspectives on things, and ask him rapid-fire questions that sometimes had him at a loss. All in all, they took to him as if they'd known him forever and, according to Chegwidden, he'd never seen Rabb happier than he was, sitting on the floor playing with and talking to his children.

Surprisingly, she had no qualms whatsoever about allowing Rabb into their lives. No jealousy or insecurity about sharing the children. No worries about their safety or well-being. It was an odd feeling, to seemingly know someone you shared a deep connection with, without having any memory whatsoever of that person. To trust them, almost implicitly, without knowing them. She was grateful that the children were there, since they provided a sort of buffer, whereby she could sit back and watch, for the most part, while they interacted with this perfect stranger. Seeing him with them gave her the opportunity to see what kind of man he was and, more importantly, what kind of father he would be. Not that she had any doubts, especially with all she'd been told about his desire for a family.

A family…

She had yet to discover what that meant to _**him**_. Was it just a desire for children? Or did he crave a true partnership – a fully committed relationship? She could only guess that he wanted to full-package, given the fact that he'd apparently proposed to her before the accident. Given her acceptance, she could only presume that he'd been someone with whom she could see herself building a life and family with. What had he loved about her? For her part she could look at him analytically and tick off the traits she surely had found attractive before. Other than the obvious - his ridiculously handsome face and devastating smile – she could see the warmth and humor he exuded. His intelligence. His strength. His manner with children. Thus far, she hadn't seen anything negative about him – yet. Surely there had to be _**some**_ less than desirable qualities he possessed. I mean, everyone had something about them that made them less than perfect. Right?

She had been mulling this and other questions all evening. The kids had requested that Rabb be the one to put them to bed tonight, and she'd readily agreed; thinking he'd better become acquainted with their habits and rituals now that he'd taken on the mantle of "father." She had left them alone while she remained downstairs to wash up the dishes and straighten the kitchen. Chegwidden had retired to his study for the evening and she was alone with her thoughts.

He found her staring up at the moon, completely lost in thought. Fishing in his pocket, he came up with a penny and placed it on the counter next to her. Shaken gently from her reverie, she glanced down at the shiny copper coin and smiled tentatively.

"I'm sure they're worth much more," he teased.

Her eyes traveled upwards until they met his and she was struck again by that odd sense of familiarity. She smiled again and shifted her gaze to the stairway across the room.

"How many stories did you have to tell?" she asked.

He grinned broadly and shrugged.

*Zing*

Wow. That grin was a force of nature all on it's own.

"Just two."

"You're good," she chuckled.

He sobered slightly, a shadow crossing his eyes for just a moment and then the smile was back. "I would have read to them all night if I'd had my d'ruthers."

"I have no doubt," she nodded. And she didn't.

"I have a lot of time to make up for," he noted.

"But nothing to feel guilty about," she assured him.

"I let you down, Bron… I let them down…" he grimaced.

"You did no such thing," she chided him. "You had no idea what was going on, but the moment you learned the truth, you stepped up. You never hesitated, you never doubted, you… you embraced the twins, near as I can tell, with your whole heart. You had every right to hold back, to take time to process everything and ease your way into the role of father, but you didn't. You have jumped in with both feet and that means everything – to them… and to me."

"I appreciate you saying that, but I should have dug deeper," he countered. "I should have tried to find out more. I should have been there."

She shook her head. "Coulda, woulda, shoulda… that doesn't do any of us any good," she told him. "For whatever reason, someone went to a lot of trouble to convince you that I was gone – therefore completely out of your reach. There was no trail to follow. Single-vehicle accident. Dead. Cremated. Case closed. Nothing left for you to do but go home and move on with your life. I don't begrudge you that, and I don't blame you for not knowing and not being there. If anyone's to blame, it's me. And… whomever decided to play God with our lives, but mostly me."

"You?!" he stared at her, confused.

"If I had told you about the Admiral. His name, at the very least, none of this would have happened. All I can do is speculate as to what my reasons were and I'll never know if that's really why. But, the bottom line is… if you'd known who he was, if I'd told him about you… " she trailed off sadly. "That's all on me, and it's something I have to find a way to live with. None of this is your fault, though. None of it."

"You've always been too hard on yourself," he smiled wanly. "Yes, you could have told me – told him… coulda, woulda, shoulda. Tell you what, I'll accept that, if you will."

She blinked up at him, unconsciously gnawing on her bottom lip as she looked into his eyes. "Agreed," she nodded decisively.

"Good," he favored her with one of his million-watt grins. "Now… about the munchkins…" he began, leading her over to the table in the breakfast nook.

"You can see them whenever you want," she informed him, anticipating his question.

"Thank you," he murmured, clearly grateful that it would not be an issue, yet all the while knowing it never would be: Bronwyn wasn't wired that way. "I know everything's a little weird right now, but I know we can work through it all together," he added.

"I know it's hard to trust someone you don't know, but I'll bend over backwards to earn your trust again," he swore.

She smiled warmly and tossed her hands up in the air. "Odd thing is… I _**do**_ trust you. I can't explain it, I don't understand it, but I do trust you."

"That's good to know," he let out a sigh of relief.

Over the course of the following week, he spent every free moment he could with the twins, building a bond and getting to know them. Their routine had been kept to as close to normal as possible, given their new circumstances. They would go to pre-school and then to the base daycare while Rabb and Bronwyn were on duty. They would have dinner at home and occasional outings for shopping or ice-cream. Most excursions included Bronwyn, but she had purposely remained behind for the last one in order to watch some videos that Rabb had brought to her.

They had discussed the fact that he had a distinct advantage over her, being that she had no memory whatsoever of their previous relationship. He had kept every letter, every photograph and every video he had of and from her. Some of them were duplicates of the ones that had mysteriously gone missing from her apartment in Hawaii. She'd been incredibly touched when he'd disclosed their existence, and more than a little grateful. At least, if she couldn't remember, it would give her a little insight into who they used to be. It also made her a little nervous too. Her children had been her main focus since she'd learned of her pregnancy five years before, and then her career. She had no idea where or if Harmon Rabb fit into the equation.

"In the interest of full disclosure, I have something to spring on you."

She paused the video she'd been watching while he'd been upstairs putting the twins to bed and turned to face him, a wary look on her face. "Uh oh." Something in his tone suggested that she might not like what he had to say.

"I considered not saying anything, but then I'd have to face that Welsh-Irish temper of yours," he teased.

"O-kaaaaay," she prodded.

"Turns out there are more old videos you might like to see," he paused.

"O-kaaaaaay," she repeated. That didn't sound so bad. So far.

"My folks have some they thought you might like to see," he informed her.

"Yes please," she nodded slowly. "So what's the part I've been mentally bracing myself for?"

"They want to deliver them… in person…"

She stared at him for a moment. Of course his mother and step-father would want to meet his children – she had expected that. And why not? They were their grandchildren, after all, it would be only natural to want to meet and get to know them. Perfectly logical. Then came the nerves. What would his mother expect of her? What would she think of her, after all this time? Would she blame her for robbing them of the first few years of the twins' lives? Would she resent her?

"They're arriving in town tomorrow," he dropped the bomb.

Her jaw dropped open and a look of horror spread across her face as she began pacing back and forth across the room.

"I just found out, I swear," he told her.

"Okay," she managed. "Um… I have to… um… I have to do… something… I mean, the twins are…"

He came over to stand in her way, then took her by the shoulders and looked her in the eye. "They understand, Bron. They know what you've been through and no… my mother doesn't blame you any more than I do."


	5. Chapter 5

"I still have this one on my mantel."

Bronwyn smiled and looked into her eyes. It was a photograph of Rabb, Bronwyn, Trish and Frank – taken during the weekend visit when Rabb had proposed to her. Their smiling, happy faces were a testament to the utter joy they were feeling.

Logan, who was sitting on her grandmother's lap, reached over and gently traced her tiny finger along the edge of the photograph.

"Pretty!" she exclaimed.

Trish hugged her new granddaughter tightly, feeling a joy she wasn't sure she would ever have the chance to know. "Yes, darling, your Mommy is very, very pretty – and so are you!"

Logan giggled and reached up to touch her face. "You're pretty too, Grandma."

"Thank you," Trish smiled, overwhelmed with love and emotion, certain her heart was about to burst right out of her chest.

Sensing his gaze on her, Bronwyn turned to find Rabb staring at her from across the room. He had been shooting baskets with Trevor and Frank in the arcade section of the pizza palace. She smiled at him, as though to reassure him and he flushed a bright red at having been caught staring. She felt her own face flush and dropped her gaze to Logan, chattering away at her grandmother. Both kids had been taking the changes in their lives completely in stride and had openly embraced their new loved ones. Quite the relief for her.

Logan finished chattering at her grandmother and had excused herself to go and run across the room to her father.

"You've done such a beautiful job with them, Bronwyn. Really. Such a wonderful job," Trish told her.

"They make it easy," she demurred.

"They're very well-behaved, but I know it can't have been easy for you. Raising one child alone is tough enough, but twins? No dear, they are a credit to you, and I am so proud of all of you."

Bronwyn teared-up, but kept a firm control on her emotions. "Thank you, Trish. I… I'm really sorry you missed out on the first few years of their lives – and that they missed out on knowing all of you."

Trish wrapped her arm around Bronwyn's shoulders and gave her a firm squeeze. "So am I," she admitted. "But I'm also very thankful to have them in my life now. I was beginning to fear that I may never have any grandchildren, and now I have two. And they are the most beautiful children ever!"

Bronwyn laughed softly at that. "They look just like your son!"

"They do," she agreed. "But it's different with grandchildren somehow. Magnified, for lack of a better term."

They fell silent again, watching and laughing at the twins as they played with Rabb and Frank. Logan was sitting on Rabb's shoulders and he was giving her pointers on how to sink the ball through the hoop, while Trevor played air-hockey with Frank. Bronwyn was suddenly overcome with the feeling that this was how it was always supposed to be. The only person missing from the current picture was the Admiral, who had been called away to a meeting on the Hill. Someone had taken this from her for the last five years. She didn't know how or why, but her course had been radically altered due to someone's machinations and her family had been splintered and divided because of it.

Basketball was over and now she watched as Rabb took his daughter in his arms and began dancing and swaying to the music playing in the background. Her heart turned over in her chest at the sight and then anger began to burn within. Nothing could replace the time that had been lost for Rabb and the twins, but she was determined to find out why they had been ripped from Rabb's life. Even if it meant taking leave from her duties, she would track down the person or persons responsible and, if possible, make them answer for what they had done.

"I have been looking, sweetheart, and believe me… I've hit nothing but brick walls."

Bronwyn gaped at Chegwidden. "Nothing? He's nowhere to be found?"

"It's like the earth just opened up and swallowed him whole," he shook his head in disgust.

He'd been looking for her former C.O. since the day after they'd discovered that Rabb had been the one who'd fathered Bronwyn's children.

"He's not drawing a pension? Left no forwarding address, _**nothing**_?!" she prodded.

"Captain Gregory Louden resigned his commission six months after your accident. The address he left is a vacant lot in the middle of God's nowhere. He's not drawing a pension. No credit card traffic, no physical mailing address, no utilities in his name, no phone in his name, no property whatsoever in his name, no car, no boat, no driver's license – he's completely off the grid, Bron."

She stared at him, her mouth ajar. "Sounds like a man with something to hide," she noted. "But why?"

"No clue," Chegwidden exhaled in exasperation. "The man had an exemplary service record, no black marks, no trouble. He was by all accounts a fine officer, headed for a long, successful career with the Navy. According to everyone who knew him, including you, for the few months you served under him, he was well-respected and had a reputation for being tough but fair. There is absolutely nothing in his past that would explain either the disappearing act or him telling Rabb that you were dead."

"I have to know, Pop… I have to know why he would do that to me, to Harm… And I know it's all assumption on our part that he had to be the one who cleared out my apartment of anything remotely connected to Harm, but as you've always said, circumstantial evidence isn't necessarily wrong…"

He nodded, equally as frustrated yet determined as she was. "Well, I'm not giving up. Nothing vanishes without a trace – however small – so we'll find it. We'll run him to ground and get to the bottom of this. It may not be as soon as we'd like, but you know me…" he trailed off with a grim smile.

"Dog with a bone," she grinned at him.

"In the meantime, how did it go last night?" he asked, changing the subject. "I'm really sorry I wasn't there for you."

She shrugged and shook her head. "It's okay. We had fun. Really. You've met Harm's parents before, you know they're lovely people. The kids adore them, and they were really very kind to me. Trish gave me some videos and copies of all the pictures she had."

He smiled knowingly. "So all your reservations were for naught, huh?"

"All for naught, just like you said they'd be," she bowed her head to him.

"I do love being right," he teased. "So… are they coming for dinner tonight?"

"Yes sir," she nodded.

"Why don't we make a real party out of it?" he asked.

As she made her way out of the building, to return to her own station, she ran into MacKenzie just outside. She recognized her face and smiled tentatively at her, as they'd not yet been formally introduced. MacKenzie stopped and glared at her coldly.

"I would have thought, given your pedigree, that you'd know how to salute a superior officer."

Bronwyn, though shocked, immediately snapped to attention and executed a crisp salute. "Yes ma'am."

"You _**do**_ know that being the Admiral's pseudo-daughter doesn't give you special privileges, don't you? I mean, the Admiral _**must**_ have taught you better than that."

"Yes, he did, ma'am. Won't happen again, ma'am," Bronwyn replied, eyes straight ahead and emotionless, even though she was seething at the Lt. Colonel's tone.

"See that it doesn't," MacKenzie said before turning and walking off without returning her salute.

Bronwyn waited a moment, then lowered her arm and set off toward the parking lot, silently fuming. Yes, she knew protocol, and never meant any disrespect. She wasn't sure where the woman's hostility was coming from, but her rebuke had been more than a little un-called for.

As MacKenzie stepped off the elevator, a slight smirk on her face, she found Simms standing at attention, saluting her, just outside the office doors.

"Harriet… what are you doing?" she asked.

"Ma'am, I'm saluting a superior officer," Simms replied, clearly miffed.

"Okay, where did that come from?" MacKenzie stared at her.

"Ma'am, I saw you reprimand another officer just moments ago, for apparently failing to salute and didn't want to fall victim to the same mistake."

MacKenzie's eyes flared angrily for a moment, until she had the grace to lower her gaze and shrug. "I see…"

"No disrespect intended, but ma'am… was that really necessary? I mean, I couldn't hear the conversation, so I don't know if she said something to set you off – not that I can imagine her doing that, but seriously… was it necessary?" Simms looked at her, desperately trying to understand why she would behave in such a manner.

"It was disrespect, Harriet. To my rank, to the regs… She doesn't know me from Adam, other than the fact that I outrank her…"

"And other than the fact that you're a friend and colleague of the father of her children, thereby a potential friendly face in a sea of strangers?" Simms countered.

"Harriet…"

"With all due respect, ma'am, I didn't have to hear what you were saying to know you were out of line and quite frankly, it was beneath you. As your friend, all I can say is I hope the Admiral didn't witness what I did."

MacKenzie nodded and looked down at the floor. "It just… struck a nerve."

"Again, with all due respect, ma'am? I suggest you find a way to heal that nerve – for your own sake, as well as the Commander's and the Admiral's. I'm pretty sure neither of them would appreciate the way you treated her," Simms told her.

"Oh, I'm sure she's probably already called both of them to tell them how mean and awful I am," MacKenzie hissed.

"She'd have every right, Mac, and you know it. But that's not her," Simms informed her.

"You don't know that, Harriet."

Simms nodded emphatically. "I know what I've seen from her, and heard from the Commander to know that she stands on her own two feet. And you'd know that too, if you make any effort to get to know her."

MacKenzie looked at her curiously. "And just when have you been around her to gain all this insight, Harriet?"

"Over the past week," Simms informed her. "Bud, little AJ and I… we've bumped into them at the ice cream parlor and last night at the pizza palace – with Commander Rabb's parents. I'm sorry, but I like her, Mac. She's done a great job with her kids, under difficult circumstances, she's been through hell, and she doesn't whine about any of it. I'm pretty sure she's here to stay, so if you care at all about the Admiral or Harm… you need to find a way to deal with how you feel about her."


	6. Chapter 6

"We were very happy, weren't we?" Bronwyn asked, looking up from the photographs in her hands.

Trish smiled warmly and put her hand over Bronwyn's. "Yes darling, you were _**very**_ happy. And I approved of your relationship wholeheartedly. "

"I appreciate that, more than I can say. I just… I can't… I'm still having a really hard time trying to wrap my brain around… all of it…" she admitted sheepishly.

"Bronwyn, sweetheart… of course you are! The situation is beyond compare. I'd be shocked and more than a little disbelieving if you weren't struggling to find your footing. We're all floundering a little in our own way, but you're the one who has the most difficult burden. At least we remember that year. I can't imagine how torturous all of it must be for you – but you're handling yourself extremely well and I couldn't be more proud if you were my own flesh and blood."

"You're very kind…"

Trish cut her off, her tone stern, but loving. "Oh now, none of that. What I said is true and it's how I really feel. We are thrilled to have you back in our lives, and beyond giddy over the two wonderful children you've brought into the world and our lives. However belated, you have given us such an amazing gift, and I don't just mean the children."

Bronwyn's eyes began to well up, but she managed to keep herself under control. "I feel the same way about you and Frank. You have been able to give me at least some of what I lost – even if it feels sort of like I'm watching someone else's life play out. You embraced my children with open and loving arms, and I will never be able to express what that means to me. You raised Harm to be this… incredible man and incredible father… " she paused to take a deep breath. "My children finally have what they've always deserved and I'm so grateful."

"Listen child, even though we didn't spend much time together before your accident, just days really, I knew of you long before that weekend. I know how happy you made my son, and I know he'd never been happier. For how you made him feel, for the joy you gave him, for the love you gave him… for all of that, I loved you. I still do, Bronwyn and I know that will only continue to grow from here on out. Whatever the situation between you and my son, I will always be your family. Whatever you need, whenever you need me, I will be there for you, and for the children. That's a promise."

A single tear slid down Bronwyn's cheek, and then another as she turned to look at Trish. "Thank you."

Trish took her in her arms and held her tightly. "Always, Bronwyn… Always."

They were sitting off at the far edge of the patio, well away from the others, but their conversation had not been as private as they'd imagined. Someone else had been close by, and completely unseen, and that someone did not like what they'd heard. In fact, it had stoked the slow-burning rage that had been building up for some time now. Soon. Very soon.

"Bron? Honey, there's a phone call for you inside," Chegwidden called to her from the doorway across the patio.

She excused herself to Trish and disappeared into the house, grateful for the opportunity to pull herself together. She didn't want to frighten or confuse the twins by allowing them to see her cry. She didn't want anything to rock the boat for them – they were so happy with their newfound family – especially their father.

Their father. That still sent a bit of a shock through her system when she allowed herself to think about it. She had been so focused on making sure everything was okay for her children, that she hadn't allowed herself to think (much) about _**him**_ – or what he must have meant to her. What she'd said to his mother had been true: he was an incredible father. A genuinely good man. They had clearly been very happy together and very much in love. She could see that, if she allowed her mind to wander there. He was precisely the type of man she would go for. Honest, decent, kind, loving, funny, brilliant, strong, courageous… if she allowed her mind to wander further, she could admit that he was physically attractive beyond reason. Tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome. Yes, _**exactly**_ her type. _**If**_ she allowed herself to think about it. Not that any of that mattered anyway. What they'd shared together was lost to her – to both of them. She had no memory of their love and bond and all she could be to him was a painful reminder of his past.

"Still think they aren't really mine?"

MacKenzie started at the deep male voice next to her ear. She hadn't heard him approach, so focused had she been on avoiding the Admiral. Neither he, nor Rabb had said anything to her about the way she'd dressed down Bronwyn earlier, but that didn't mean it wasn't coming. She'd known the way she was behaving had been rather witchy on her part, but she couldn't seem to help herself. The woman brought out the worst in her. She hadn't liked her on sight and nothing had changed over the course of the evening to make her reassess her feelings.

MacKenzie turned to glance at the twins, who were playing with Roberts, Harriet and Little AJ – seemingly enjoying every minute of it. When she could get past the sour taste it left in her mouth, she had to admit that the twins were very cute and quite well-behaved; surely the Admiral's influence, she thought. There was no denying their resemblance to Rabb. The boy was a mirror image of Rabb at that age, as demonstrated by his childhood photographs.

"No," she admitted with a sigh. "There's no denying the physical resemblance, so they must be yours. You seem to be enjoying instant fatherhood."

"Very much so," he beamed. "I can honestly say I've never been happier…" he trailed off for a moment as his eyes traveled to the door where Bronwyn had disappeared a moment ago. "Close… but the kids just… I dunno, Mac… they are everything I ever wanted in my child – times two!"

"I'm glad you're happy," she nodded.

"Thank you," he grinned. "So… let me ask you something? Why is it I get the feeling you've been steering clear of the Admiral all evening? You two having a disagreement or something?"

Her face flushed slightly, but she covered well. "No. Just haven't had the occasion… I mean, he's been very occupied with the kids and everyone. No big deal," she lied to his face.

It was pretty clear that Bronwyn hadn't said anything to Rabb… yet.

"Okay," he shrugged, glancing toward the door again, where Bronwyn had just emerged, motioning for him to come over.

He excused himself and strode over to where she waited for him, leaving MacKenzie to silently stew by herself.

"Hey," she began, somewhat distracted. "I just got a call from my C.O. – I have to go down to the Navy Yard… "

"Okay," he nodded. "I'm happy to take the kids, or stay here with them if you'd rather."

"I think it's easier for them if they sleep in their own beds tonight, since you're not quite set up for them at your place – and you're always welcome to bunk in the spare room any time," she replied.

He flashed her a smile that sent a zing of electricity through her veins. "Okay then, here it is."

"Will you please make my apologies to everyone? I'd do it myself, but he really needs me down there right away."

"No problem. Go. Will you call me later?" he asked.

"I will," she nodded before thanking him and rushing back inside.

She pulled out of the driveway moments later and didn't notice the dark car that had slowly followed her down the street. She had a passing moment of déjà-vu, but quickly shook it off and continued on toward the Navy Yard.


	7. Chapter 7

By the time she returned home it had grown very late. Upon entering the house, she found Rabb asleep on the sofa, his children on either side of him and a protective arm around each of them. Her heart turned over in her chest and she had to fight back against a wave of emotion she couldn't begin to describe. The television was on and it was pretty obvious they'd all fallen asleep while watching something. She stood there for a few moments, just watching them and enjoying the moment. He must have sensed her presence, because his eyes fluttered open and he smiled sheepishly upon seeing her standing there.

She put a finger to her lips and whispered softly. "Looks like they have you surrounded."

He looked down at them and grinned happily. "Trust me, it's a happy predicament."

She believed him. He radiated happiness every time he shared space with the twins.

"We should get them up to their own beds," she told him.

He frowned for a moment, but nodded. He was perfectly comfortable, but he knew he'd be paying for the awkward sleeping position in the morning, if he didn't get up now. She stepped over and gingerly lifted Logan off the sofa. Rabb eased his other arm around Trevor and swept him into his arms as he rose from the sofa in one fluid motion before following her up the stairs. She deposited Logan into her bed, amazed that the child hadn't so much as stirred at being moved. They must have played hard while she was gone.

He met her at the doorway as she exited Logan's room. Stepping aside, she watched as he carefully sat down on the side of her bed and brushed a stray hair from her face before planting a tender kiss on her forehead. It was a touching, fatherly moment and she had to escape before her fatigue allowed her roiling emotions to get the better of her. She hurriedly went to Trevor's room and kissed him goodnight, then fled downstairs to the kitchen.

"Everything okay?"

She stiffened slightly then turned to glance back at him. "Yes."

"So, you said on the phone you had a break-in at the office?" he prodded.

She nodded, her brows furrowing in bewilderment. "Yes. The place was completely trashed."

He shook his head, clearly stunned. "Who in their right mind would break-in, let alone _**trash**_ the Provost Marshal's office?!"

"Maybe that's the answer," she sighed. "Someone who wasn't really in their right mind? Although… they had enough presence of mind to take out the surveillance cameras before they commenced to trashing, so… maybe crazy, but not stupid?"

"Sounds like someone who knew their way around the office. Any leads?" he asked.

She shook her head negatively and stretched her arms up over her head. "None. Yet. Lucky for us, the cameras have a back-up system in place. We won't see them trashing anything, but we might be able to hear them if they were talking. Or we may be able to catch sight of them before they took out the first camera. It's off-site though, so we can't get it until the morning."

"And nobody saw anything?" he wondered, finding that odd.

"Nope. Tolman was on duty at the time and everything was fine when he left on his rounds. When he came back, the door was wide open and everything was trashed. He was only gone for maybe half an hour so, whomever it was, they had to come in right after he left. I mean, there was a lot of damage. When I say trashed, I mean decimated. Anything breakable was broken, if not shattered. The desks were splintered. To do so much damage in so short a time? That says 'rage' to me."

He nodded thoughtfully. "To me as well. Have you been having any problems with anyone lately? Disgruntled servicemen? Prisoner? I mean, not just you, you, but anyone in the office?"

"Nope," she exhaled sharply and stretched again. "Things have been ridiculously peaceful."

"Hmm," he grunted. "Weird."

"To top it all off, I got back to my car to leave and found two flat tires!" she informed him.

"What?!" he gasped.

"Yeah, I guess I ran over some glass and at least one nail. It was late and I was about to requisition a car, but the Gunny happened by and offered me a lift," she told him.

"Gunny? Victor Galindez?" he asked.

"Yes," she nodded, stifling a yawn.

"I wasn't aware that you two knew each other. He's been out of town for a while now," Rabb told her.

"I know. I actually met him before, maybe about a year ago."

"Oh," he blinked, more than a little surprised. And inexplicably a little jealous.

"Anyway… I need to hit the rack and, please, like I said, you're more than welcome to bunk here the rest of the night. The twins would love to have you here for breakfast," she smiled sleepily.

"Love to," he nodded, still distracted by the Galindez revelation. "Goodnight Bron."

"Goodnight," she paused.

"Wait?" he called out as she turned to go up the stairs.

"Yes?" she replied around a yawn.

"I'm sorry… I just… I've been meaning to ask you…" he stammered.

"Yes?" she blinked up at him owlishly.

"It's no big deal, just something that struck me… I… you… why is it you never use my name?" he asked, clearly feeling awkward.

She blinked a few times, her mouth slightly ajar.

"I mean… when talking to me directly."

She stared at him for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know…"

"See?' he pointed at her. "Right there. You were about to say '_I don't know, Harm_,' but something stopped you… Why is that?"

"I'm not really sure," she admitted.

That wasn't entirely true though. The truth was that it felt somehow too… familiar? Too intimate. Which, said out loud, sounded more than a little ridiculous, given that they'd been intimate enough to create two beautiful children, but still… it felt presumptuous somehow.

"Look, I know we really haven't had a chance to talk about… things… beyond the kids, but… if you're feeling pressured or uncomfortable in any way…" he trailed off and spread his arms out wide.

"I don't feel like you're pressuring me at all," she assured him. "Really. You have been… wonderful."

He smiled then, sending a zing of electricity through her. "We should talk… at some point. But I'm not pushing for anything, or asking for something you're not ready to discuss. I know you don't know me… very well… and I know it's got to be really… weird… but… I miss talking with you, Bron. About everything, about nothing… I don't want to make you uncomfortable…"

She unconsciously reached out to put her hand on his arm and he felt a shock go through his body that almost made him recoil. From shock, not revulsion.

"It's the situation that's uncomfortable, Harm, not you. I meant what I said, you have been wonderful, and not just to the kids. I guess I just… We're both just sort of feeling our way around things now, trying to find our collective footing. I don't want to presume a level of familiarity that isn't there, any more than you do. And yeah… it is a little awkward, what with you having such an advantage over me in the memory department, but I'll get past that."

He smiled again and nodded. "I can live with that."

"Good," she returned his smile.

"Goodnight Bron," he repeated.

"Goodnight Harm," she murmured, then turned and jogged up the stairs, closing her bedroom door behind her.

He watched her ascend the stairs, then turned to walk out to the living room to turn off the television. As he turned, he though he caught sight of something moving outside. He froze in place for a moment and continued to stare out the window at where he thought he'd seen movement. Nothing. He moved closer, pushing the curtains aside for a better look, but saw nothing. The wind was blowing, but not strongly. After a few minutes, he shrugged and walked away, presuming it had been just that.

But it had not been a trick of the light, or the wind blowing through the trees. Someone was outside. Watching. Waiting. And monumentally unhappy that Rabb appeared to be staying for the night. Even though he was bunking in the spare room downstairs, while Bronwyn slept upstairs, it wasn't right. Rabb shouldn't be there. She shouldn't be there. And now that Marine Gunnery Sergeant had insinuated himself into her life. Things had gotten out of control and a solution needed to be found. When the time was right. Soon.

The back-up surveillance footage had not yielded anything beyond the sudden swing of a baseball bat at the camera before that went black and there had been no sound, save the shattering of glass, splintering of wood, and crash of computers and files. But weeks had passed, and then several months, but there had been no further incidents. Life had gone on as before, and Rabb had grown closer with both of his children and to their mother.

Bronwyn had managed to forge friendships with several people in Rabb's circle, much to the apparent chagrin of MacKenzie, who had taken an immediate dislike to Bronwyn, which had not gone unnoticed by her, but had remained unspoken. She steered clear of MacKenzie as much as possible, and never mentioned the woman's obvious animosity towards her to Rabb. He, of course, was aware that the two of them had not hit it off, but he managed to stay off the subject. He had no idea why MacKenzie didn't like Bronwyn, and Bronwyn had never mentioned MacKenzie to him at all. For her part, however, Bronwyn had a pretty good idea just why MacKenzie had taken an instant dislike to her. She could have verified her suspicion by discussing it with Harriet Simms, but she didn't want to put her in a position like that, so she kept it all to herself.

In the meantime, she continued to enjoy her duties with the Provost Marshal, enjoy her kids, and her growing bond and friendship with Harmon Rabb. He was proving to be an outstanding father to the twins, and they adored him completely. The man was born to be a father and he seemed to be loving every moment of it. So much so that it had been difficult for him when some of his cases took him out of town for days at a time. He had even discussed with her, the month before, the possibility of resigning his commission, so he could have regular hours and not have to leave his children, however temporary the separation might be. She had given her honest opinion and left him to make the decision on his own, promising to support whatever decision he made. He had chosen to stick it out, as she'd known he would, knowing that it had been the right decision in the end.

"Just us?" she stared at him quizzically.

He laughed, sending shivers of delight down her spine. "Yes. Dinner. You, me… just us."

"Uh…" she blinked a few times. "Like… " she paused, not wishing to vocalize any presumption on her part. "Like a…"

"Date," he finished for her. "Yes. Like a date. I am asking you to have dinner with me, just us. Adult conversation, food, drinks, maybe even dancing, if you're feeling brave."

She stared up at him, her mouth slightly ajar. She had not expected that – not that the idea repulsed her.

"So?" he prodded.

"Uh…yes," she finally managed. "Yes, that sounds like fun."

He grinned boyishly and she felt her own smile widen. He had been in her life for four months now and never once had either of them broached the subject of dating, anyone let alone each other.

"Tonight?" he asked.

"Okay, " she nodded. "Sure. Unless you'd rather wait until you get back from Russia?"

He had been loath to agree, but he'd be leaving for Russia the following day, and he couldn't say how long he'd be gone.

"Tonight," he nodded emphatically, backing toward her office door. "Pick you up at 1900 hours?"

"I'll be ready," she smiled.

Oh no. this would not do at all. It had taken months to finalize plans and get everything organized only to discover that things had gotten farther out of control than anticipated. Those plans had to be accelerated now – not by much, but it was annoying nonetheless. Nothing could be done that night, of course, but tomorrow was do-able.


	8. Chapter 8

The sound of her laughter was like a balm to his soul. It had always brightened his life and made his heart feel full and lighter at the same time. It had taken him a long time to be able to put all of that away – to tuck it into a small, private corner of his heart. A place where he could always keep safe his memories and feelings for her without having to deal with the soul-crushing knowledge that she had been taken from him before they'd had the chance to build a life together. Her return had brought all of it out again. The joy of knowing her and, also, the pain of losing her. He'd been forced to sort all of it out again and find a way to work through the new reality of having her back in his life. The children? That had been easy. Effortless. A virtual no-brainer. But things with their mother? Well, that had been decidedly more complicated. For the most part, she was very much the same woman he'd fallen in love with all those years ago. But, yes, she was different in some ways. Differences that came from suffering traumatic medical issues and from motherhood. Not bad or negative, just different.

He would still always have a distinct advantage over her though. He knew everything about their past, while she could only be told stories, or shown videos and pictures. None of those memories were hers to own. He knew what it had felt like to hold and be held by her. He knew the taste of her lips. Knew how it felt to kiss her. He knew the warm, soft feel of her skin. What it felt like to wake up beside her. She knew none of that, and it made him a little melancholy. Yes, they were rebuilding – and that was all well and good, but knowing that she would never have all the beautiful memories he did caused him a sadness and guilt he wasn't certain would ever go away.

"You're a million miles away, Flyboy."

He startled for a moment, then recovered, flashing her a sheepish grin. "Sorry."

"Dwelling on the past?" she guessed.

"Not exactly dwelling," he shrugged, before giving her a good spin around the dance floor, eliciting more laughter from her.

"Well, good…" she grinned happily. "…because I'm having a great time right here in the present. With you. So stay here with me?"

His eyes locked on hers and he nodded solemnly. "No place in the universe I'd rather be."

She flashed him another smile that took his breath away. To cover for his sudden inability to speak, he spun her several times, then dropped her into a deep dip. Now it was her turn to be breathless. Her eyes locked on his and her heart did it's usual little flip. He held her like that for a moment, then slowly raised her up and tucked her a little closer against him.

"In case I forget to tell you later?" she began. "I had the best time tonight."

He smiled, resting his chin on the top of her head, his emotions all over the place. "Me too," he sighed. "I wish I weren't leaving in the morning."

So did she. But he had a duty to perform, just as she did. Every. Single. Day. That strong sense of duty was part of who they were at their core.

"Duty calls," she nodded.

"Will you miss me while I'm gone?" he asked, not daring to meet her eyes.

"Very much and, no… not just because of the kids," she replied, anticipating his next question.

His face lit up and his arm unconsciously tightened around her.

*zing*

"I think we're building something, the two of us," he told her.

"Sure feels that way," she pulled back slightly to look up into his eyes.

*zing*

"You know, I would really…." He began, only to be cut off by a familiar voice.

"Hey! Commander! Lt. Commander! I didn't know you patronized this joint!"

Tiner. And Gunny. Oh, and Coates, too. Apparently they were out for a night on the town. Rabb had specifically chosen this establishment because it was not a well-known hangout for Navy personnel. Now it appeared that he'd been wrong about that. Fortunately for them, both Gunny and Coates immediately recognized that they were intruding on a date night and managed to drag Tiner away and give them some privacy. After they'd gone, an awkward silence fell between them and, as soon as the music ended, Rabb escorted her back to their table in the far corner of the room.

Timing. Hadn't he told her that timing had been a problem for them before?

"I guess it's time to call it a night, huh?" he ventured.

"You do have to be at the airport early," she nodded, albeit reluctantly.

They had been having such a wonderful time, too.

"I'd love to do this again… when I get back," he told her.

*zing*

"So would I," she smiled warmly at him.

As they left the restaurant, there were more eyes watching them than they knew. Sure, there was Gunny, Tiner and Coates – but there were at least two pairs of eyes that had been watching them through a green haze for the better part of an hour. Only one of them had shifted from a green haze to a red one. Anger. Frustration. Hatred. And a steely resolve to remedy the situation. Bronwyn felt a sudden chill go through her as they made their way to the car, but shrugged it off as being due to the weather rather than any sense of impending doom. When they reached Chegwidden's home, Rabb walked her inside and they chatted for a few minutes more. The last thing he wanted to do was say goodnight, but time was getting away from him and he did have to be on a plane _**very **_early in the morning. He pulled her in for a hug and, as they pulled back, he couldn't resist the urge to lower his head to hers. As his lips were about to touch hers, they heard the sound of an excited squeal of delight.

"Daddy!"

They froze in place for just a fraction of a second before Logan launched herself at him. He had to let go of Bronwyn to catch the tiny human projectile in mid-leap. She wrapped her arms and legs around him like a spider-monkey and buried her face against the side of his neck. Rabb melted. Bronwyn melted. There was nothing more attractive than a man lovingly interacting with his child, (or children) however ill-timed the interruption.

"What are you doing up, sweet-pea?" Rabb asked, gently rubbing her back.

"I dunno," she sighed.

By the time they had her back in bed and asleep, another hour had lapsed and he really had to get going. Chegwidden had woken up during this time and was now downstairs; wide awake.

"Say goodnight, Mr. Rabb," he told him.

"Goodnight, Mr. Rabb," he replied dutifully, throwing one last, longing look at Bronwyn across the room.

"Goodnight, Mr. Rabb," she chimed in, giving him a little finger-wave.

Rabb left then, sans a goodnight kiss, but with a heart full of joy and hope for the future.

At the airport, just scant hours later, as he was about to board the plane, he heard someone calling to him. His heart turned over as he recognized the voice as belonging to Bronwyn.

"Bron! Everything okay? The kids…"

"All fine," she cut him off. "I just… I really didn't get a chance to wish you well on your mission, and…"

Now it was his turn to cut her off. And he did it by taking her face in his hands and looking deep into her eyes. She froze, a nervous smile beginning to tug at the corners of her mouth as her eyes met his without blinking.

"If you don't, I will," she murmured, blushing furiously.

He grinned boyishly before capturing her mouth in a gentle kiss that instantly took her breath away. Fireworks had nothing on that man's kiss. He released her after a few moments, leery of scaring her off. Her face was flushed, and her eyes wide with… what? Wonder? Shock?

"Wow," she murmured breathlessly.

"Last call for flight number 387…" the announcement broke through.

She reached up and gently traced a fingertip down the side of his cheek and he swooped in for another kiss – this time a more urgent kiss, full of promise.

"Be safe," she whispered. "I'll miss you."

"I promise," he replied with a nod. "I miss you already."

She stepped back a few paces and flashed him a brilliant smile. He felt his heart turn over and seriously considered not getting on the plane. She could see the hesitation written all over his face and stepped back a few more paces, waving to him as she moved.

"Sir, we have to close the door now. Are you boarding or not?"

Bronwyn chuckled and shook her head at him. He turned to the gate attendant with a sheepish grin and apologized.

"Call me when you land," Bronwyn called out as he was ushered toward the door.

She waited until she saw the plane pull away from the terminal, then hit the restroom to splash some cold water on her face.

The remainder of her day had been relatively uneventful. There had been a minor incident with one of the civilian workers on the base. A man who had decided that today would be a good day to get drunk and tell off his supervisor. The supervisor had taken umbrage at this and the situation had gotten somewhat heated to the point where they felt they needed to call in base security and have him carted off to jail. When she got off duty, she ran by the base daycare to pick up the twins and take them out for pizza. They had just been secured in their booster seats when it began to rain. When she got behind the wheel, she felt an odd rush of déjà-vu that had nothing to do with the children. A deep sense of foreboding washed over her as she stared out the windshield as the wipers moved back and forth in a futile effort to keep the pouring rain at bay.

Something was wrong. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she just knew that _**something**_ was wrong. She scanned the parking lot around them, looking for any hint of trouble, but saw nothing other than other parents, scrambling to pick up their own kids in the sudden deluge. She'd known a storm was coming, but it had been projected to arrive much later.

"Pizza Mommy!" Trevor prodded.

Her eyes went to the rearview mirror and met his looking back at her.

"Yeah Mommy, we're staaaarrrrving," Logan added helpfully.

"Okay, okay," she smiled and let out a sigh before putting the car in drive and slowly inching out of her parking space.

They had gotten three miles down the road when they came upon another car, apparently abandoned in the middle of the road. It was parked at an angle and so blocking her way. There were two cars pulled over on the side of the road, headed in the opposite direction and two women had bravely ventured out to see if anyone was in the car ahead of her. The rain had turned into drizzle, at least for now, and she threw her own car in park before opening her door and stepping out to address the women.

"There's no one in there, or around, " one of them called to her as she headed back across the street to her own car.

"I've already called the police," the other woman informed her, as she too headed back to her car. "They should be here shortly."

She was about to ask why neither of them had thought to move the car out of the road, but their doors slammed and their engines fired up. Bronwyn shrugged, then motioned to her kids that she would be right back. She got no more than four steps away, when she felt a sharp sting, followed by a burning sensation in her left shoulder. Instinctively, she reached for her shoulder and was stunned to find a tranquilizer dart embedded there. She ripped it out, hoping that it hadn't fully injected her whwen the world began to spin on its axis. She felt herself stagger a bit, then reached out to try and steady herself on her car, only to find that it was too far away and there was nothing between her and the ground to keep her from falling. Darkness began to sweep in over her and she felt the cold fear of knowing her kids were there – now in danger – and they were witnessing everything. She heard them cry out as she dropped to her knees, fighting the darkness and nausea, but couldn't make her legs work.

The dart was in her hand as she fell further, her kids crying in earnest now. The other two women were long gone and there were no other cars on the road. She fought with all she had to stay awake, but she was losing ground fast. Just before the darkness consumed her, she heard the sound of an engine rev, the squeal of tires braking on the rain-soaked road and then a familiar voice calling out her name.


	9. Chapter 9

"Talk to me Bronwyn!"

She couldn't talk. She could barely move. Her eyelids fluttered open and she managed a strangled "Victor?" before shoving the tranquilizer dart into his hand and succumbing completely to the darkness.

He looked down at his open palm, stunned to see the dart. It was obvious that she'd been targeted, but by whom? He didn't have time to dwell on it, as his main concern was getting her to safety for medical treatment and calming the twins, who were crying hysterically in their booster seats. He gently took Bronwyn in his arms and hoisted her off the street. As he turned to walk back to her car, a shot rang out; the bullet whizzing past his ear in a very narrow miss. He instantly dropped to one knee, taking shelter behind her car and calling for the twins to duck down as far as they could. Another shot rang out, this one dinging off the hood of her car. A third shot hit a little closer to the fender right above his head.

"Gunny!" Trevor screamed from the back seat, his own tiny body instinctively thrown over his sister's.

"Stay down," Galindez shouted.

A fourth shot blew right over the car and their heads. This was getting ridiculous. He was inching along the rain-soaked pavement, trying to get to the open car door without getting either himself, the twins or Bronwyn shot in the process. There was another shot just as he heard the sound of a car approaching, then squealing to a halt behind his own car.

"Gunny!"

"Colonel MacKenzie! Stay down, we're taking fire!" he called back in warning.

A sixth shot took out the right rear tire of Bronwyn's car, prompting more terrified screams from the back seat.

"Oh my God!" MacKenzie gasped in horror.

Instinct and training kicked in and she immediately began laying down fire in the general direction of the attacker's position. With the gunman pinned down, Galindez was able to shove Bronwyn's limp form into the front seat, then he too began to fire into the approximate area where the gunshots had been coming from. This allowed MacKenzie to bolt forward and wrench the back door of Bronwyn's car open. The twins screamed in terror, but she hurriedly released them from the seat restraints and pulled them from the car and instructed them to kneel on the street. Galindez laid down cover fire, then got behind the wheel, threw the car in reverse and gunned the engine, using the car as a shield for the children until he parked parallel to his own car. MacKenzie bundled the children into the back and onto the floor, then laid down cover fire so Galindez could maneuver Bronwyn into the front seat of his car. Once they were inside, he hollered for MacKenzie to jump in. As soon as she closed the door behind her and covered the kids with her body, Galindez floored the gas pedal and the tires squealed as they peeled away from the scene.

Once they were a safe enough distance away, MacKenzie pulled the twins off the floor and buckled them in before checking them over for wounds. They had stopped screaming and were now quietly sniffling and hiccupping, eyes wide with fear.

"You're safe now," she cooed to them.

"M-m-m-m-mommmmy?!" Trevor stuttered.

"Mommy's fine, Trev," Galindez assured them, earning him a questioning glance from MacKenzie. "She's just sleeping."

"That m-m-maan had a gun," Logan announced.

Clearly.

"He looked mean," Trevor told them.

Galindez met MacKenzie's shocked gaze in the rearview mirror.

"How do you know he looked mean, Trevor?" she asked him.

He looked at her, not fully trusting, since she was a virtual stranger to them, then turned his eyes to Galindez. "I saw him."

"You did?" Galindez tried to keep his tone even and calm.

"When?" MacKenzie asked.

"When we were on the ground," he replied "I saw him in the bushes when we were outside on the ground. He did this to me," he explained, making a "shhh" gesture with his right forefinger to his lips.

"Have you ever seen him before, Buddy?" Galindez asked, deeply concerned.

"No," he shook his head and then reached over to take his sister's hand in his.

"I want Daddy," Logan sniffled, her eyes filling up again with tears.

"I know, Sweetie, you remember Daddy's very far away right now, but I'm gonna look after you until your Grandpa AJ gets here, okay?" Galindez assured her, his heart breaking for the two young children.

MacKenzie was already dialing the phone to inform Chegwidden about what had gone down and where they were taking Bronwyn and the kids. Her next call was to the police, who were no doubt looking for answers about the mess they'd left behind and why they'd had to flee the scene.

When Chegwidden arrived at the hospital, he first had to slip past the children, who were sitting with MacKenzie in the waiting room. He knew they were all right, and while he did want to see them and hold them, he needed to find out Bronwyn's condition. Something he wouldn't be able to do once the kids saw him. They would likely cling to him like Velcro and he needed to be able to speak freely with the doctor. Galindez was standing guard just outside the exam room, his visage dark, angry and concerned. He explained to Chegwidden in more detail than MacKenzie could in the car about what had happened out there on the road. He also expressed concern about the danger to Trevor, since he had actually seen the man's face who had been firing on them. The tranquilizer dart had been given to the medical staff, so they could analyze what it contained and how best to counteract the effect on Bronwyn.

"I can't tell you for certain if this was a targeted attack or just a random one, but the guy knew what he was doing," Galindez informed him.

Chegwidden nodded and headed inside to speak with the doctor tending to Bronwyn. He had been afraid of as much.

After speaking with the doctor, and receiving multiple assurances that her vital signs were strong and normal; that she was giving off every indication of being in a deep-drug-induced sleep, with no other sign of trauma, Chegwidden left Galindez standing post at the door to watch over her and went off to find his grandchildren.

MacKenzie immediately got to her feet and quickly saluted him, while the kids rushed over to him, crying all over again, and clung to him like spider monkeys, just as he'd known they would.

"Grandpa… the bad man hurt Mommy…" Logan wailed as she locked her arms around his neck.

"Now listen to me, you two…" he began, sitting on a bench seat with each child perched on his lap. "Mommy is going to be fine – she's not hurt. The man just made her sleep with a tranquilizer dart – you remember that show we saw the other day where they used that to put wild animals to sleep, sop they could be returned to their home in the wild?"

Trevor let go long enough to gaze up at his face. "But those are for animals, not people."

"Well, that's true, but sometimes soldiers use them…" he trailed off, trying to avoid scaring them. "And probably this guy was a hunter, who accidentally used it on Mommy, but what matters now is that Mommy is okay, you two are okay, and everybody's safe."

"You're sure?" Trevor pressed him.

"Yes, I'm sure," Chegwidden promised. And he was being truthful.

They _**were **_all safe. Right now. There in the hospital. If this was a targeted attack, as he and Galindez suspected, he knew the odds were pretty high that there would be another attempt. But to what end? To kill her? Kidnap her? Or the children. Had it been Bronwyn he was after, or the kids. Bronwyn would be the most likely and logical target. But he could acknowledge that going after the kids might have some strategical benefit as well. But again… to what end?

A police officer came down the hall toward them and Chegwidden motioned for MacKenzie to intercept him and steer him clear of the children. They had already been traumatized enough. She was witness enough for now, and when they were through with her, she could stand watch over Bronwyn while Galindez gave his account of the attack to the police. He'd rather be by Bronwyn's side right now, but the twins needed him more, and Bronwyn would want him to stay with them.

The first sensation she became aware of was nausea. Then the pain. Her head was pounding and her skin felt like it was on fire. Sounds impeded – amplified due to her pain and nausea. Voices. A male and female.

"Harm?" she croaked hoarsely.

She felt a strong hand grasp hers and squeeze.

"No baby, it's me."

"Daddy?" she struggled to open her eyes, despite the pain.

Chegwidden smiled. He loved it when she called him that. "Don't force it, sweetheart. Everything's all right now."

It all came back to her like a blow to the face and she suddenly bolted upright. Pain exploded through her head and her stomach violently protested. Fortunately, the Admiral was a quick-thinker and immediately grabbed the trash can beside the bed in time for her to upchuck the contents of her stomach. MacKenzie bit back a slight smile, knowing it was all kinds of wrong for her to take any pleasure in the woman's misery, but unable to help herself.

"Okay now?" Chegwidden asked.

Bronwyn fell back against the pillow, one hand covering her belly and the other clamped against her head.

"Kids?" she croaked hoarsely.

"They're fine," he assured her. "They're safe with the Gunny. He's keeping them well-entertained."

She smiled weakly at that. They _**did **_love the Gunny. Chegwidden poured a small bit of water into a cup, then gently eased her upward so she could sip it.

"Better?" he asked.

"Yes sir," she replied. "Thank you."

"Up to talking about what happened out there?" he asked, gently stroking the top of her head.

"I'm not really sure what happened, Sir," she blinked a few times as she marshaled her thoughts. "I had just picked up the kids and we were heading to get pizza. I came upon this abandoned car in the road, blocking the way. The door was open… There were two women on the other side of the road and they said they'd already contacted the police – they took off immediately. I started to go toward the abandoned car and…" she paused, reaching for her shoulder. "…that's when I felt the burn from the tranq dart. I tried to pull it out right away, hoping I wouldn't get a full dose, but I was too late. It hit me like a freight train, Sir, and I started to fall… I could hear the kids screaming, but I couldn't move…" she trailed off, an intensely pained expression on her face. "Are you sure they're okay? They must have been so scared."

"They were," he nodded. "And yes, they're both okay."

"You never saw who was shooting at you? Cause Trevor did and…" MacKenzie was cut off by a sudden, angry glare from Chegwidden.

"Shooting? What? Trevor saw…?!" Bronwyn stammered, absolutely horrified.

Chegwidden took her by the arms and pulled her into his embrace, rubbing her back to calm her.

"Not just tranqs..?!" she continued.

"Sorry sir," MacKenzie murmured.

"No sweetheart," Chegwidden began. "Not just tranqs. When Gunny got there and picked you up off the ground, someone opened fire with a rifle. Your car is pretty banged up and has a flat tire, but no one was hit. Lt. Colonel MacKenzie arrived just after the Gunny and together they were able to get you and the kids into his car and safely out of there. I take it you were out cold when all of this occurred?"

She pulled back and looked up at him with wide, horrified eyes. "Yes sir. Ihave a vague memory of someone calling my name and then a hazy image of Gunny's face. I didn't hear any gunfire, and I didn't see who shot me with the tranq. But Trevor… if he saw… he could be… he's just a baby!"

"He was very brave," MacKenzie told her. "You would have been very proud of the way he looked after his sister."

Bronwyn nodded slowly, her head still pounding and her mind reeling. Who had done this? And why? Looking back on everything, she was convinced that this had been a well thought-out, planned attack, specifically targeting her, or else the assailant would have taken out the two women who were there before her.

"Okay look, I'm going to go dispose of this outside and get the doctor to come check you over again. Then I'm going to go check on the twins, although I'm sure they're fine. Lt. Colonel MacKenzie, you have the watch for now," Chegwidden informed them, his tone brooking no argument.

"Yes sir," Bronwyn replied.

"Yes sir," MacKenzie nodded, albeit not pleased at the assignment.

After he had gone, MacKenzie headed for the door, to stand post outside in the hall.

"Ma'am?" Bronwyn stopped her.

"Yes?" MacKenzie turned to look at her.

"Thank you, for helping the twins. I wouldn't presume to imagine you did it for me – I'm sure you didn't, but thank you."

MacKenzie stared at her for a moment, then gave her head a slight shake, as if she couldn't believe her ears. "You're welcome."


End file.
